


Day of Hearts

by istra_cor



Series: Enamore [11]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Chocolate, Engagement, F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Valentine's Day, Zen | Hyun Ryu's Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 05:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13675209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istra_cor/pseuds/istra_cor
Summary: Dr. Mara Claire "MC" Valle-Scott arrives in Seoul to visit her boyfriend, rising star and gorgeous Korean actor Hyun "Zen" Ryu for Valentine’s Day, 1 ½ years after the beginning of their long-distance relationship. Because of contractual obligations, they can’t be seen together in public, feeding rumors about their break-up and Zen's involvement with his co-stars. Zen’s parents have also refused to meet MC, holding up their marriage. Will their love be enough to see them through?





	Day of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Valentine’s Day DLC.

_“Please ensure that your seat backs and tray tables are in their upright and locked positions,”_ the lead attendant’s voice says overhead, as our plane descends and Incheon airport comes into view. I lean back and leaf through the airline magazine for the umpteenth time, turning again to a full-page ad that I’ve scrutinized repeatedly over the 13-hour flight. _“Merchey’s Chocolate,”_ the tagline reads. _“For adults unsatisfied with mere sweetness.”_

The words banner over an image of Zen, a gorgeous 25 year-old Korean actor with silver hair. In the photo, his long tresses are unbound and cascading over his bare shoulders, and he is lying on his stomach on pristine white sheets, a box of chocolates at his elbow, a chocolate square raised in his fingers. His rose-colored eyes and provocative smile make me ache with longing. Talking to him every day by phone or messenger just isn’t the same as being with him, and I am finding these last few moments before we see each other again almost unbearable.  

I squash a brief, irrational flash of jealousy as I realize that everyone viewing this ad campaign is seeing Zen-- _my_ Zen--sprawled half-naked in bed, something I’ve yet to see for myself. Even though we’ve been head over heels in love since just a few days after first meeting, we’ve decided to wait to consummate our relationship, a somewhat old-fashioned notion Zen proposed to please his family. How did he put it? He wants my reputation to remain spotless so that his family could have no objections when he finally introduces me to them. After all, the only significant other you introduce to your parents in Korea is the one you are marrying. But since his father continues to refuse to speak to him, we’ve been waiting almost two years since Zen’s very public announcement of our relationship at a press conference.

We’ve also avoided being seen together in public for a variety of reasons. In the early days, it didn’t take very long for the paparazzi to start tailing me, so I’ve stayed under the radar since. We’ve stayed busy and distracted with our respective careers: my family medicine residency in New York, and his rising star from stage musical actor to TV personality, but the fact that the official status of our relationship has barely moved forward still grates on me.

I remind myself that this is part of being in love with a public figure, and how blessed I am to have found true love again after losing my husband to cancer. I met Zen during my first visit to Korea, when I was soul-searching in Seoul after Jim died, having stumbled onto a messenger app that suddenly and mysteriously brought me into the inner circle of Rika’s Fundraising Association. I became the organization’s party planner, staying in the apartment of founder Rika, who had committed suicide several months prior. The day before the party, Zen saved me from being abducted by a madman who blew himself up when he triggered a bomb that had been installed in the apartment as part of a special security system Rika had requested.

The thought that I had been unknowingly and literally sleeping on top of a bomb for over a week still gives me goosebumps. Sighing and pushing those unpleasant memories away from my mind, I tuck the magazine into my carry-on bag, check to make sure a gift box I hand-carried from New York has made it intact, make sure I have all my belongings, and review the instructions Zen sent earlier.

I arrive relatively well-rested thanks to an upgrade Zen placed on my ticket. I am one of the first people off the plane and find my bags easily. When I exit customs and immigration, a bodyguard in a dark suit is waiting in the arrival area with a signboard that reads “Dr. Valle-Scott.” We bow to each other in greeting and he takes my bags, leading me through the arrival area full of shops and restaurants.

I smile knowingly as we pass by a large ad for Merchey’s, a poster-sized version of the magazine image. There are several teenage girls giggling and posing for photos with the poster and boxes of candy. I slip my sunglasses on and keep walking past them, following the bodyguard outside to a darkly tinted car pulled up at the curb. The bodyguard pulls the car door open and I slip into the back seat, where a lanky figure waits patiently in the shadows.  Zen reaches for me just as soon as the door shuts behind my back, crushing me in an embrace and kissing me eagerly.

I giggle. “Hi, Zenny. Happy Valentine’s Day,” I murmur in greeting, as he nuzzles my neck, planting more kisses on my jaw.

“God, I’ve missed you, babe,” Zen whispers urgently, his fingers tangling into my hair.

“I’m glad I got the time off,” I sigh in pleasure as he continues trailing kisses onto my collarbone. I pull Zen even closer, reveling in the feeling of his warmth against me, letting his scent, the touch of his lips on mine and his hands on my body, and the firmness of his muscles against my fingertips fill my senses. Heat begins to build in the pit of my belly, and I know that this is where I am meant to be: with Zen.

Our bodies jerk suddenly as the car makes a sharp turn, and I become acutely aware of the driver and bodyguard in the front seat. Their eyes are dutifully trained towards the road, but I glance at them self-consciously. Zen raises a brow briefly, then sighs in resignation and sits back, pulling me to his side with an arm wrapped snugly around my waist.

I lay my cheek against his shoulder, his breath blowing warmly against loose strands of my hair. We watch the passing landscape quietly for a few minutes, till I spy a Merchey’s billboard. “That ad campaign for Merchey’s turned out pretty well,” I remark.

Zen grins, just a little embarrassed. “Yeah, it’s kind of everywhere right now.”

“No kidding.” I gesture at the car. “This is new.”

Zen nods. “The Merchey deal was a good one, so I don’t have to depend on Jumin for a car and driver anymore,” he says with some pride. Really, Zen got a lot of notice after Jumin’s cat food commercial raised his profile, even helping _Holistic Food for Glorious Cats_ become commercially viable so the product line actually broke even. After that, TV and more ad offers came in steadily in addition to his musical shows, so Zen is doing respectably well, and can even be choosy about the jobs he takes, which makes me happy for him. “And I was able to upgrade your ticket. How was the flight?”

“Very nice,” I say appreciatively. “Are we headed home?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I thought you’d want to settle in and freshen up a bit before we go out.”

“Hmm,” I say non-committally. I don’t really like going out on Valentine’s Day: overpriced flowers and over-crowded restaurants are not my thing. After all, love should be celebrated everyday; why be a slave to commercials and convention? That, added to Zen’s growing fame (and with it, the intrusion of others into our personal space in public) and the increased local traffic because of the Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang, makes me even less enthused about the idea. I did find out, however, that Valentine’s Day convention in Korea is quite different from the U.S. or the Philippines. Instead of sweethearts getting each other flowers and chocolate and going on romantic dinner dates, in Korea, Valentine’s Day is all about the men. Specifically, women buying chocolate for men. Not that Zen knows that I know...

“I hated that we couldn’t be together on Valentine’s Day last year,” Zen pouts.

I smile reassuringly. “The flowers you sent were very nice, Zenny. Anyway, neither of us could get off after spending Christmas together, and my vacation was already set for your birthday.”

He shrugs. “Still, I consider it my duty to provide my lady love’s needs.”

“And all I need is you... though I might be up for trying some of that chocolate for adults,” I tease, quoting the ad tagline.

“I can probably arrange that,” he says broadly, a naughty glint in his eyes.

We arrive at his half-underground apartment. Zen’s phone rings and he waves at me to go ahead as he picks up the call. I shake my head ruefully--his growing popularity means his phone is constantly ringing, as well, not unlike when I’m on call. I excuse myself to make a quick call to my sister, Jo.

I unbutton my coat and hang it up, then look curiously at new additions to the apartment since my last visit, such as posters from Zen’s recent and upcoming shows. I settle onto the couch and turn on the TV, a new 40-inch flat screen in the living room. I am leafing through a magazine on the coffee table when a familiar voice from the set catches my attention, prompting me to look up to the screen.

 _“Chocolate that’s endlessly sweet?”_ Zen murmurs throatily on TV, his rose-colored gaze boring into the camera. _“Is that really enough?”_ It is the same image from the poster: he is undressed from the waist up and lying on his stomach, his silver tresses flowing like a waterfall over his shoulders. _“Aren’t you curious to taste chocolate for adults?”_ He takes a chocolate square from a red heart-shaped box in front of him. _“If you want, I can teach you. Slowly, to that it never melts in your mouth_ ,” he murmurs, taking a slow, deliberate bite, and my breath catches as the scene fades out to the Merchey’s logo.

 _“Chocolates for adults that aren’t satisfied with just sweetness,”_ the voice-over declares, interrupting my reverie. I realize that I have been holding my breath, and release it in a huff.   _“Merchey’s chocolate!”_

Dizzy, I fall back onto the couch. The blood has rushed to my face and my insides feel like warm, melted chocolate, my muscles unable to keep me upright. I realize that Zen is standing off to one side from where I am sitting, watching me watch the TV spot. He has an uncertain look on his face.

“What were you thinking when you that commercial?” I ask breathlessly.

Zen purses his lips thoughtfully before he answers, his expression turning into a suggestive grin. “I’ll show you guys what real maturity tastes like! Something like that?” 

I glare at him. “Is that really all you can think about?”

“Oh ho--” he chuckles. “Are you getting ready to sulk?” I frown and cross my arms in annoyance. He sits next to me, taking my hand in his and stroking it with his thumb, which promptly distracts me. “Hmm… At first, I just thought of it as work… but later on, I started thinking about you…”

“Oh?” I ask, the irritation melting out of my voice at his touch.

Zen gives me a meaningful half-smile. “The director kept on wanting more takes. He said he wasn’t feeling it. I ate so much chocolate that day. I kinda got anxious about how many boxes of chocolates I’ll have to eat. He just kept on saying that he wasn’t feeling it without giving me specific directions. It was pretty frustrating…” He sighs, and shrugs in remembered exasperation, then takes my face in his hands, capturing my gaze with his. “So in the end, I just had to think of you to exude irresistible sexiness, and the director loved it.”

“Really?” I look at his rose-colored eyes searchingly.

“My point is,” he explains, “everything went well thanks to you, babe.” He leans in and kisses me softly.

 _“Chocolate that’s endlessly sweet?_ ” his voice begins again from the TV.

Zen pauses. “But are they gonna keep playing that commercial? There it is again. Babe, let’s change channels. Let’s see what’s on right now.”

"Okay,” I accede, picking up the remote. I scroll through channels; Zen’s image flashes across the screen on A! News.

 _“Now,”_ a female anchor says, _“moving onto the man who’s been winning all the ladies’ hearts!”_

 _“None other than the talented actor Zen!”_ a male co-anchor continues. _“He’s been a charming darling in his musical performances.”_

“Oh,” Zen realizes, “they’re talking about me.”

I raise a brow. “‘Winning all the ladies’ hearts’?” I ask, my voice tightening. Zen shrugs helplessly.

A montage of Zen’s scenes from his recent shows plays, eventually showcasing scenes of him wearing a white chef coat. _“His next role is a handsome chef, and rumors say that the audience will get to see a never before seen side of him. More details coming your way!”_

“Oh yeah,” Zen says, nodding toward the screen, “I remember they came to film me some time ago. I guess it’s being broadcast now. The crew that came really loved my handsome chef character. They said they want to learn cooking too.”

On TV, Zen appears to be showing a curvaceous female character how to prepare a succulent-looking dish. I recognize the well-known foreign actress. “I want to learn cooking from a handsome chef too,” I tell him, trying to distract myself from the way he and Jocelyn look together on screen.

Zen grins. “I can cook all kinds of dishes when I’m just acting, but I have a long way to go to actually teach you. You know my cooking’s not that great yet.”

I smile genuinely at him. “Your cooking suits me just fine.”

He chuckles in response. “I can’t wait to get better and cook some awesome dishes for you.” He starts to trail kisses again along my jaw, down to my neck and shoulder, his long fingers wrapping around my waist. I sigh and try to push Jocelyn out of mind; after all, Zen is kissing _me_ right now. We shift along the length of the couch. I let my hands roam over the contours of his back through his shirt, and let myself get lost in the touch of his lips, his hands setting fire to my skin, his weight pressing against me...

 _“Alright,”_ the woman on TV continues, _“so we’ve just seen sneak peeks of the handsome chef and sexy boss.”_

 _“Jocelyn and Zen seem to have great chemistry,”_ the male anchor gushes. _“I’m sure the new show will be fantastic. We’ll be looking forward to it--!”_

 _“I know it’s for a show, but they seemed to get along so well,”_ the first announcer observes. _“I got quite jealous actually. Don’t they make such a cute couple?”_

Our heads whip in unison towards the TV. “What?” Zen exclaims in surprise.

 _“Oh,”_ the man says, _“I thought I was the only one who thought that.”_

 _“Yes,”_ the woman nods enthusiastically. _“They were actually involved in a scandal recently. The headlines said, ‘Beautiful Couple Madly in Love Despite Language Barriers,’ and the press had a field day!”_ My brow shoots up.

“Scandal?” Zen sputters. “Jocelyn and I were in a scandal? And what do they mean ‘despite language barriers’? We can barely communicate with each other! Scandal, my ass.”

Despite the fleeting thought that said ass is quite sexy, I am primarily annoyed. I am tired from the long flight, and my ability to brush off irritation is low. I sit up again, recross my arms and lean back, miffed. “I guess you got along really well with Jocelyn?”

“No, never!” Zen insists, shaking his head. “This is shocking to me too. I have no clue where they got that idea--”

I harrumph.

“But, babe...” Zen inquires gently, “are you being jealous?”

I pout slightly. “A little--?” I admit.

He grins. “I’m so happy that you’re jealous!”

“Then you’ll have plenty to be happy about,” I grumble. “As if it’s not enough that every person who sees that Merchey’s ad is looking at you half-naked in bed--”

He turns slightly and takes my hands in his again. “You know that I’m all about you, right? Whether I’m with you or at work, there’s no one but you.” He looks earnestly into my eyes. “If you didn’t know how I truly feel about us, we would have fought every time a scandal like this came out.”

Clips of romantic scenes from the series start playing, doing nothing to cool my annoyance. Zen, sensing this, exclaims, “Seriously--where are those rumors coming from? This is so upsetting! These rumors are getting out of hand now!” He gestures at Jocelyn on the TV. “We can’t even give each other feedback on our acting without an interpreter. You trust me, right?”

I sigh and give up. “I trust you,” I say honestly.

He smiles genuinely. “You’re my whole life, babe. I feel like I have it all. I never talk about anything else other than acting with other women.”

The male anchor continues enthusiastically. _“I’m sure all of you were curious to see this. We’ve barely managed to acquire evidence through a crew member on set. This is the photo!”_ An image of Zen on one knee handing Jocelyn a clear plastic water bottle with set lights behind them is clearly an outtake.

 _“Wow,”_ the woman gushes, _“Zen is handing Jocelyn a water bottle so tenderly. Is that what it’s like to communicate through your eyes?”_

My forehead creases in puzzlement, because Zen’s expression in the photo could best be described as “pleasantly neutral.” “You don’t look particularly interested,” I say.

“Right?” Zen asks.  “I knew you’d see it right away. That’s nothing like the face I make when I’m with you.”

“Yeah, the face you make with me is the one plastered all over the chocolate commercial _,_ ” I say  peevishly.

Zen’s eyes widen in understanding. “Come on, babe,” he coaxes. “She just dropped her water bottle and I picked it up… What, they don’t want me to be nice? And what happens to you when they say that? I made it official that you’re my girlfriend at the press conference. Are they just ignoring that…?”

“That was a year-and-a-half ago. They’ve probably forgotten,” I suggest bitterly.

 _“But doesn’t Zen have a girlfriend already?”_ the male anchor asks.

“Never mind, I guess they haven’t,” I sigh in resignation, as the old, unflattering photos of me running with my hair plastered in sweat around my face and leaving the cat commercial set with him flash across the screen, along with the notorious photo of Zen caressing my hair possessively at his press conference.

 _“Yes!”_ the woman enthuses. _“He famously revealed his girlfriend at a press conference. He’s been seen with his girlfriend on set before as well.”_

 _“So can we report on a scandal like this?”_ the man asks.

 _“Well,”_ the woman says suggestively, _“Zen is not married yet.”_ Ouch. Just like that, the two start picking at all the sore spots of my relationship with Zen. _“I can’t help but wonder why they haven’t tied the knot. And the couple hasn’t been seen in public in over six months.”_

“Because I’ve been out of the country!” I protest bitingly.

 _“I’ve heard various rumors about this,”_ the guy says. _“What is the most popular one?”_

 _“Yes, well,”_ the woman replies. _“The most popular theory is that they are in a fake relationship to avoid marriage. Some say that they’ve already broken up but haven’t announced the news in fear of more scandals.”_

“What?” Zen exclaims. “No, it’s just because of my contract with the new agency. It’s in the contract that I should refrain from being seen in public with you because of all the media attention.”

“Ostensibly, to protect me,” I murmur, considering the irony of it all. The C&R agency, at Jumin’s suggestion, added that clause for two reasons: first, it’s fairly common among Korean actors to maintain an image of single-ness for their fans. The second, and more important, was to protect me from being targeted by the media, regardless of whether or not my relationship with Zen flourished. Jumin and Jaehee both explained that since I am also a member of the RFA, that they needed to look after both of us. It had sounded reasonable at the time.

Zen shakes his head. “Wow… this is insane.”

 _“Yes, Zen’s outstanding looks and ever growing popularity will only add more fuel to these rumors,”_ the woman announces.

 _“Well,”_ the man opines, _“I think that people rely on these rumors because we don’t know much about his girlfriend other than that she’s not in the industry That’s just my opinion. None of us really know what their relationship is really like, but a scandal like this can’t be good for their relationship. Really, when Zen had that presscon, it seemed as if they were ready to get married--”_

I mash on the remote’s power button with unnecessary force, cutting him off. “Enough,” I say.

Zen snorts in disgust. “They must really have nothing to talk about. Can’t believe they’d try to raise their ratings that way.”

“The Olympics is probably sucking up most of their usual traffic,” I speculate.

Zen huffs in annoyance. “God,this pisses me off. I’m going to release a statement tomorrow.” He gesticulates wildly at the TV.  “I wouldn’t mind as much if they were just talking about me, but why did they bring you into this too?” I shrug in response. “Seriously,” he continues, becoming more agitated, “should I just totally ignore my agency, and just go out onto the streets with you in my arms, so that no one can even mention those rumors? Or should we just kiss in front of a bunch of paparazzis? Damn it! If it weren’t for that image maintenance clause in the contract--”

“It’s more than that, remember?” I interrupt to remind him. “Feeding the rumor mill doesn’t satisfy them, it just makes them more aggressive.”

“I want to take you everywhere and brag that you’re my girlfriend,” Zen declares. “All the entertainment news channels have been mentioning these rumors ever since I went into this new agency. That was that scandal with Kyungju last month--”

“Another one?” I ask. The first one had been awful and almost destroyed Zen’s budding career.

Zen nods in confirmation. “I’m glad she stepped up first and denied it. She looked kind of offended by the rumor.”

“That’s good,” I say, pursing my lips.

“Yeah,” Zen says, running his hands through his hair. “We didn’t have to do much for the rumor to go away.” He shakes his head. “Kyungju is really not my type. Look at how she treats her manager. It’s going to take years for her to grow up.”

“What is your type?” I ask, raising a brow.

Zen smiles meaningfully, taking my hand. “My type… is you. You’re nice, you’re cute, and you love me. Nothing in this world can ever be more adorable than you.” Glancing at the TV again, he snorts in disgust. “They could have just done something special for Valentine’s Day. God, this is pissing me off. I’m not going to do any interviews with them from now on. They don’t even know how good we are together--! Damn it.”

His string of compliments has lightened my mood, so I shrug nonchalantly. “Let them talk. I don’t care. Hmph.”

Zen grins. “Wow… You have no idea how much I admire your coolness… I am just falling more and more in love. But--sometimes I get really upset about all this… We love each other so much, and I did that press conference so that everyone can see that…  I want everyone to know how good we are together. Seriously, I just want to go out to the streets and scream my lungs out.” He cups his hands around his mouth, stands at the window and yells. “MC!!! I love you!!! Like this…” He shakes his head. “Gahhh, talking about this isn’t making me feel better. Let’s change the subject.”

"Okay," I agree. "What do you want to talk about?"

He pauses to think, then looks at me speculatively. “Babe, I’m kind of craving something right now… Does anything come to mind? To give you a hint, it has something to do with today.”

I feign ignorance. “... I don’t really know?”

Zen’s voice takes on a wheedling tone. “It’s February fourteenth, Valentine’s Day. Come on, what does Valentine’s Day remind you of? Something sweet and sensual…”

I put on my best look of puzzlement. “Roses?” I ask. “You want flowers?”

He shakes his head. “You saw it on the TV…”

“Dinner?” I venture. “You want me to cook for you?”

“Uhm, babe,” Zen scratches his head. “.... Are you just messing with me? Uhm--You know, the most common thing on Valentine’s Day. It starts with a C! You know what I’m talking about…”

“... Cockroach?” I suggest.

Zen makes a face. “No--Ugh. Thinking about that just crushes your hopes and dreams. Babe,” he prompts, “you know, something you eat?”

“Cookies?” I say, biting my lip to keep from laughing.

Zen groans in exasperation. “Valentine’s Day chocolate!” he says, slapping his palm against his forehead. “I didn’t receive a single piece of chocolate this Valentine’s Day. Isn’t there anyone out there to save me?” he whines.

I make a show of my empty hands. “No,” I try to say with a straight face, but start to crack up.

Zen raises a brow. “... Oh, really?” he asks, realizing that I am teasing. He feigns sniffing the air. “Hmmm--I feel like I smell chocolate somewhere…?”

I laugh out loud and retrieve my hand-carried package, a box of artisan chocolates I brought from my neighborhood chocolatier in New York, which I give to him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Zenny.”

“You hid the chocolate--? Sweetie, you were just playing with me? You could have just given it to me~ You jokester!” He starts tickling me and I almost drop the box.

“Stop!” I shriek. “You know how ticklish I am!”

He grins and kisses me lightly, taking the box. “I’m just happy to be getting chocolate from you. Babe, thank you so much.” He tears the wrapper and opens the box, inspecting the chocolate pieces briefly before selecting one to pop into his mouth. His face contorts into an expression of heavenly satisfaction. “Nothing’s better than chocolate on Valentine’s Day! God… I want to brag about this to the whole world--My babe gave me chocolate!”

He eats a second piece, and a third, while I look at him expectantly. “You don’t have anything for me, Zen?”

He considers this. “Well, I can’t be the only one to have some fun. Let’s go on a date, I want to give something back. Should we get our coats and go out for some air? I can call the driver.”

“It’s going to be so crowded outside,” I complain. “I’m too lazy to go out, and what if the paparazzi follow us again?”

“Hmm--Still, wouldn’t we feel better if we get some fresh air?” he coaxes. “We can always come back inside if it’s too crowded, so let’s just head out. I’ll help you if you don’t feel like getting ready.”

“... Alright,” I concede.

“Yeah, I’ll get your coat,” Zen says, calling the driver while he retrieves it, holding the sleeves out for me so I can slip my arms in.

We climb back into the car and I sigh at my Korean Valentine’s Day experience. The sun is setting as we pass shops and restaurants decorated in pink and red hearts. I am not really paying attention to the Seoul landmarks we pass till the view outside the window looks familiar and we drive by the 73 building. We pull up in front of a building facade I know too well, a tumult of emotion and thought hitting me, as well as not a small amount of post-traumatic stress. The last time we were in this exact spot, we were running for our lives, away from an explosion. Zen steps out of the car, then extends a hand to help me out. “Zen, this is--?”

“Shh,” Zen says, putting a finger to my lips. “I know you have a bunch of questions, but can you just trust me and follow me?”

I grip Zen’s hand tightly as we enter the building and wait for the elevator. Zen presses the button for the fourteenth floor. The elevator chimes, the doors part, and soon I am staring at the familiar keypad into Rika’s apartment. The letters “R.F.A.” are still embossed in cursive above the door handle.

Zen punches in the security code, which I note is different from the old one. He pushes the door, and it swings open. I can picture the apartment they way it looked when I stayed here before, so am surprised at the unfamiliar interior.

The space is bigger than it used to be; I think a wall has been taken down to combine it with a neighboring one, so now there are even more windows, revealing a gorgeous view of downtown Seoul. I walk into the apartment, turning slowly to take everything in around me.

Music is playing softly in the background and there are multiple pink and red balloons floated up to the ceiling trailing curled pink ribbons. There are more balloons and red rose petals scattered on the floor. A table set with silver cutlery, fine china and cloche-covered dishes is lit with tapered candles. The rose petals and balloons form a trail to another part of the apartment, where sits a queen-sized bed, covered in satin sheets and set with overstuffed white and blue pillows. At the foot of the bed is a small table set with burning candles and a large bouquet of red roses. The heat is blowing comfortably and we peel our coats off, Zen hanging them up.

“Ta-da!” he exclaims. “Are you surprised?”

“This is so beautiful!” I say in hushed excitement. “Zen--This is why you wanted to go out?”

Zen closes the distance between us in just a few steps. “If you are surprised, my plan’s a success. You have no idea how anxious I was about you guessing where we’re heading and what excuse I’d have to give. You have no idea how excited and happy I was getting all this ready thinking that it’s all for you.” He reaches up and brushes hair off my face, tucking it behind an ear. “Valentine’s Day is a special day. I kept on thinking how to make it a special day for you--and I decided to come here.”

“Why here, of all places?” I ask, but realize the answer as I ask it.

“Do you remember when you first came to the RFA?” he asks, taking my hand and weaving our fingers together. I nod. “You might have decided to come to this apartment by accident. But, the moment you stepped into this place, everything started to change. It was an important moment. Remember when you first downloaded that messenger app and came here for that first time? I bet you never expected to make all these memories with me. I... waited every night to talk to you--and felt butterflies in my stomach every time I saw a missed call from you after work, or when I woke up in the morning… And you felt the same way right here too, right?” 

"Yes," I respond softly, my eyes starting to fill with tears.

“I waited," Zen continues, "got excited, waited again, stayed up all night talking to you, drenched in each other’s thoughts, and I’d always be shocked to see how much time has passed. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t see you, but I was so happy when I could feel our love over the screen.” He looks around us, and then meets my eyes again. “This place means so much, a place that connected you and I. But some tough things happened here. Right? The thing that happened the night before the party… I still don’t want to think about it. But we both remember it so well.”

“When you came to save me, right?” I ask in a low whisper.

Zen nods somberly. “Yeah. I still feel my heart sink when I think of that night. Of course, it still  enrages me that there was a bomb here. If I’d just been a minute late, if I’d failed to protect you--” His grip tightens. “Just thinking about it makes me shiver. I’m sure it’s worse for you. I didn’t even want to come near this place after that incident. But--I’ve thought about it, and I don’t want to bury all the good memories we made here just because of that.” He kisses the top of my head. “MC, what do you think about this place?”

I lay my cheek against his chest. “It still scares me to think what could have happened here--but this place will always means so much. It’s where I met the RFA and you, Zen.”

“I see… “ He pulls back and puts a finger under my chin, lifting my gaze to his. “Do you think we can make this moment memorable, so that we can always think of the good over the bad here? So that when you remember this apartment, you can smile.”

I am definitely smiling right now. “Oh my Zenny,” I sigh, “you certainly know how to make a girl feel special.”

He grins lopsidedly. “Only for you, babe. Only you.” He gestures to the table. “Shall we have dinner, then? Don’t want it to get too cold.” He pulls a chair for me and we sit down to eat.

The meal goes by quickly, Zen showering me with attention. Afterwards, he asks me to dance, and we hold each other close. He sings softly as we sway to the music.

“Thank you so much for doing all this for me,” I say sincerely, my ear to his heart, listening to it beating in sync with mine.

“I can do so much more than this for you,” Zen says, taking my face in his hands. “This place was up for sale, and I optioned it so that I… we… could have a nicer place closer to downtown if we want it, big enough to start... a family, if that’s what you want. Your happiness is my happiness. And I-- There’s something else that’s been bothering me.”

“Something bothering you?” I ask.

Zen pauses and hangs his head, his voice turning small. “I feel like I always just make you feel bad and wait. Our marriage too. I wanted to get married after patching things up with my parents. That’s why I took you to their place last year. But they didn’t even let us in… They still can’t accept me… You’re being so considerate and patient to wait for them to come around… But the stupid TV keeps going on about things that hurt you…”

I wrap my arms around him. “I’m thankful that you know. It’s not easy, but I can get through it because I trust you.”

“Thank you for being so patient with me,” Zen murmurs gratefully. “I--I feel like I’m just relying on your love and making you wait forever. I’ll do better--so that you’ll never feel hurt by those idiots who don’t know anything. That you so much for being strong and staying by my side despite everything. Thank you for being with the RFA, and more than anything else, coming to me--and lighting up my life. Every morning, I open my eyes feeling so grateful to you.” He grasps me by the shoulders to look into my eyes. “Babe, I’m on TV now and people recognize me, but at first, I was really hesitant to act on screen. The TV industry is completely different from musicals. You have to fight your way through that tiny screen and they can edit however they want to twist my intentions. I didn’t know if I could do well as a celebrity, if I could touch as many people as I did through musicals. I just didn’t know. But--it occurred to me, that with you by my side, I can do anything. Since you always believe in me.”

I smile up at him. “Zen…”

“No matter how tough the shoot was, you’re always waiting for me. No matter how difficult it was at work, I could get through it all. I know how hard it was for us, being apart so much. So many people were against us and tried to hurt us. But the fact that we’re still together just shows how much we truly love each other. No matter what troubles face us, I can get through all of them with you by my side. Our love isn’t so easy to shatter. I have faith in us, more than ever before.

He sinks to one knee and pulls a small velvet box out of his pocket, opening and cradling it in the palm of one hand. A large, sparkling diamond set in white gold is nestled in it. My heart leaps.

"I want you to know how powerful it feels to be confident of your love," Zen continues softly. "My passion for my dreams is stronger than ever. Thanks to your love…" He offers me the ring. "Mara Claire, will you become my wife?”

I can't find my voice. My tears start to fall as I nod wordlessly. “...Yes!” I finally manage. He slips the ring on my finger and we kiss passionately, but a thought intrudes. “Zen… what about your parents?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “They’ll come around eventually... I hope. But I didn’t want to keep you hanging… You’re too important to me, babe. I don’t want you to have any doubts. And I wanted to make it official before another guy thinks he can put dibs on you. What was the name of that surgery resident? Igor? Andor?”

I laugh lightly. “Silly Zen. He was being friendly, but I wasn’t interested. I told him I already had a boyfriend.”

“Well, now you have a fiance,” Zen says smugly. “Hey, I like the sound of that. Um…” He scratches his head a little uncertainly. “So I hope you don’t mind if we can’t set a wedding date yet?”

I chuckle. “Well, it won’t be before graduation, Zenny dear. I have to finish residency. And,” I add, clasping his hands, “I know that you’re still hoping your dad will come around before we get married. Don’t worry, I’m patient.”

Zen kisses me again, then leans his forehead against mine. “I’m so grateful for your understanding, MC. Do you remember what I said to you the night before the party? I told you that I’ll make it up to you for being by my side when I was struggling. Whatever path you choose to take, I’ll believe in you with my love. Even if your dreams put you in a  difficult place, even if you end up failing--I will always be by your side, just like you were with me.”

I take a deep breath. I am just months away from graduating from medical residency in New York, but the next step is less clear, except that my future is at Zen’s side.  “My dreams? Do you think my dreams will come true?” I think of my struggles to learn Korean, and the upcoming challenge of the Korean medical licensing exam.

“Yes, I believe in you,” Zen says with conviction. “As long we we have each other, it will come true. I will be supporting you no matter what your dream is. When you get worried about whether you’re taking the right path, if this is what you really want, just think of me. I will always tell you that the path your heart desires is always right. Never forget that I’m here for you. Will you promise me? That the moment your dreams come true, you’ll think of our love.”

I smile up at him. “Of course.”

“You’re so adorable… I want us to be together forever and ever. Now, come here." He pulls me toward the small table at the foot of the bed. “I have something for you.“

“Another surprise, Zen?” I’m not sure how much more my heart can take; it feels full to bursting with happiness.

He gestures at the bouquet. “Babe, you see that box amidst the flower petals?” I let go of his hand, and find a heart-shaped box half-covered by the roses. “Open it,” he instructs.

I tear at the wrapping and lift the lid, revealing a large chocolate-shaped heart with a glittering white letter Z embossed on it. “It’s chocolate,” he continues. I reach into the box to trace the Z with my finger, but the chocolate is soft and yields readily to the gentle pressure.  “It’s shaped like a heart just like--Huh? What? The heat must have been too high--!” Zen realizes with embarrassment. “I turned the heater on this morning so that it’d be warm when you come in. It didn’t occur to me that the chocolate would melt--Oh, man.." I giggle as I pull my hand back, but my fingertip is stained with chocolate.

"Uh--babe. You have chocolate on your hand…” Zen says, lifting my hand to his mouth. I breathe in sharply as he takes my finger into his mouth, suckling on it gently. Heat explodes from my fingertip to flood the rest of my body. “It’s sweet,” he murmurs. “The store told me it’s their best one. It really is.” His tongue flicks again at the chocolate on my finger. “This has to be one of the sweetest chocolates I’ve ever had.”

“Are you going to be selfish and eat it by yourself?” I ask hoarsely.

Zen smiles meaningfully. “Nah, of course not. I’ll let you taste it.” Instead of taking chocolate from the box, however, he kisses me full on the mouth. I taste the chocolate on his lips, his tongue. Drawing back, he asks, “How about it, babe. Isn’t it super sweet?”

The heat is making me dizzy, and I fall seated onto the bed behind me. “I think I need to taste it again to know,” I manage.

Zen chuckles. “Again? I don’t mind… But I can’t guarantee it’ll just be once more,” he warns. He sits next to me and kisses me again. “Now, whenever I have chocolate, I’m going to think of you," he whispers. "MC, I hope you’ll remember today as a sparkling moment out of all the days we’ll share together from now on. Thank you, for teaching me what sweetness is.” He clasps my hand, weaving his fingers through mine, pulling me to him. “Shall we turn this apartment into a haven for our love?” he asks in a low voice.

“Zen…” I moan, as he trails kisses down my neck. My fingers splay over the black fabric of his shirt as I kiss him back, and realize there is no one to interrupt us here: no driver, no bodyguard, no reporters, no work… I know I am lost in his arms, in his eyes, to his touch and his kisses. I hear his sharp intake of breath as I undo a shirt button and slip a hand onto his bare chest, his heart pounding under my fingertips.

“MC,” he whispers, his rose-colored gaze filling with desire. “I don’t know if I can… keep… control…”

“Hush,” I say, sealing his lips with mine. “Don’t think. Just be with me.”

He groans, and surrenders to the moment, letting me peel his shirt off his shoulders. I revel in the sight of his lean, muscular torso and let my fingers explore their well-defined contours. We fall back onto the bed, his hand caressing the curve of my hip down the thigh to my knee, pulling it up and over his hip, bringing our bodies together. Desire builds in the pit of my stomach and I kiss him with reckless abandon. I feel the zipper on the back of my dress being slid down, Zen's hand over the fabric pulling it forward to kiss my bare shoulder. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

A harsh ringtone from across the room interrupts us, and we hesitate, our breaths rapid and mingling. The ringing stops, then starts again persistently. I sigh in frustration. “You should probably get that,” I suggest.

“Sorry,” he mouths as he gets up and crosses the room to get his phone. “Hello?... Jin-Yun, hi…” I sit up, surprised that his brother is calling.  “I’m celebrating Valentine’s Day with MC, she just arrived today. What’s up?”  He crosses the apartment back to me, sitting on the edge of the bed, and I let my hands rest on his shoulders, kissing the back of his neck. His muscles suddenly tense under my touch. “... What happened?... Dad had a heart attack?”

I freeze momentarily as I process the information, then spring immediately into action, pulling my dress back on and retrieving Zen’s shirt. I help him slip it on while he is still on the phone, start fastening buttons, and go to get our coats. “Where is he?” I prompt him.

“What hospital are you at?” Zen asks his brother. “... Okay, I know where that is. We’re close by.”

I am dialing his driver on my phone and ask to be picked up in front of the building. I blow out the candles, retrieve my purse, and take Zen’s hand as we hurry out of the apartment to the elevator. “... We’ll see you soon,” Zen says, ending the call.

I embrace him tightly as he buries his face in my shoulder. He is shaking. “Are you okay?” I ask. I feel him nod and take a deep breath.

We are at the hospital in twenty minutes and I ask reception in halting Korean about Zen’s family. Zen turns heads but he is oblivious, his hand gripping mine tightly. We are directed to the preop area of the cath lab, where I spot Jin-Yun next to an older woman who resembles both him and his brother. Her eyes widen as Zen and I step into the room, empty except for a small group of us around one gurney at this hour. “Hyun!” she exclaims, and Zen lets go of my hand to envelope her in a tight hug as she sobs against his chest in disjointed Korean. I pick up “sorry,” “your father is so stubborn,” and “he wouldn’t go to the doctor.”

Zen speaks to her in low, soothing tones, but his gaze goes to the head of the bed, where a pale older man lies with his head slightly propped up, an oxygen cannula across his upper lip. His eyes are closed and a nurse is checking his vitals.

I bow respectfully to Jin-Yun. “May I ask how your father is doing?”

“He had a heart attack, MC. They are preparing to take him to surgery.”

I nod in understanding. “Do you mind if I speak to the staff?”

Jin-Yun gestures toward the nurse gratefully. “Please.”

I turn to the bedside nurse and introduce myself, asking about Professor Ryu’s condition. She directs me to the cardiologist, who is at a desk nearby, reviewing results on a computer screen. He shares them, briefing me on the plan: cardiac catheterization, possible angioplasty and stenting. I nod in understanding.

When I return to the bedside, Zen is at his father’s side, and the old man’s eyes are open. They are both tearful, and Zen is gripping his father’s hand tightly. Zen pulls me to his side. “Father,” he says, “this is MC, the girl I was telling you about.” Zen puts my hand over his father’s.

I bow as deeply as I can. “I am honored to meet you, sir,” I say, “and we will all pray for your health and recovery.”

The old man’s grip is weak, but firm. He places my hand in Zen’s. “Take care… of each other,” he says.

“It’s time to go now,” the nurse says, as other staff members in scrubs arrive at the bedside. She raises the sides of the gurney. “Someone will escort you to the family waiting room, and the doctor will come after he’s finished with the procedure.”

We are quiet on the way to the waiting room, and before entering it, Zen pulls me back. “We’ll be in shortly,” he says to Jin-Yun and his mother. He speaks briefly to the staff member, who bows respectfully before leaving us in the hallway.

“Are you okay?” I ask Zen, as he gathers me into a tight embrace.

“Oh, MC… I never expected to meet him again like this,” he says despairingly.

“It’ll be okay,” I whisper, holding him as tightly as I can. I can hear the tears in his voice.

“He said… he was sorry. I didn’t care! I wish I hadn’t waited so long. I wish I had been less proud. If I hadn’t been so stubborn…”

“Hey,” I say, taking his face in my hands. “You can’t change the past.” I lean my forehead against his. “Let’s just hope for the best.” I take his hands again and squeeze them reassuringly, before we seat ourselves with his family. I try to smile reassuringly at Zen’s mother as Jin-Yun quizzes me about the details of the procedure they’re doing on his father. I explain that the cardiac cath is done to identify blockage of coronary arteries, and if possible, the cardiologist would attempt to open up the blockage and stent it. The procedure is pretty common nowadays, though it isn’t without risk. Zen puts his arm around his mother.

When the cardiologist appears, he has a smile on his face, which is automatically reassuring. He explains that they successfully placed a couple of stents in Professor Ryu’s blocked coronary artery, and that Zen’s father is stable and being prepped for transfer to the ICU. We breathe a collective sigh of relief.

In the next hour, we are at his bedside in the ICU. Professor Ryu is resting peacefully, his color improved. I explain to Zen and his family what each of the tubes, attachments and readings on the various monitors are around him. Soon, his bedside nurse recommends that we head home to rest, promising to call us if anything changed.

“Let me take Mom home, Jin-Yun,” Zen says to his brother. The three of us file into the back of Zen’s car, with each of Mrs. Ryu’s hands in Zen’s and mine. We enter Zen’s childhood home and she offers me the use of Zen’s old bedroom. We realize she doesn’t want to be alone, and Zen makes one more quick trip out to get our things from his apartment. We lie awake late into the night holding each other.

* * *

In the morning, we have a quick breakfast before hurrying back to the hospital. When we arrive, Professor Ryu is up in a chair. The cardiologist has decided he can transfer to the step-down unit. “If everything goes well, you should be able to go home tomorrow, and continue cardiac rehab on an outpatient basis.”

“Good,” Professor Ryu says gruffly. “I have more important things to do than sit around in the hospital.”

“Really?” the physician asks. “Like what?”

“Getting to know my future daughter-in-law, of course,” he says, nodding towards me. He looks critically at Zen. “You have made it official, haven’t you?”

Zen holds up my hand to show off my ring. “Just last night.”

Professor Ryu nods approvingly. “You always did know what you wanted, Hyun.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to your family, Professor,” the cardiologist says, bowing before he leaves.

“Does that mean we have your blessing, Father?” Zen asks. His excitement isn’t well-concealed.

Professor Ryu gives a small shrug. “If you had gone to school like I wanted, maybe you could have become a doctor. Since you didn’t, I’ll settle for you marrying one.”

Zen whoops in delight, picking me up and spinning me around in a circle.

When he finally puts me down, my smile stretches from ear to ear. “Happy Hearts Day, everyone,” I say, meaning it in every way possible.

**Author's Note:**

> When I first played the Valentine DLC, I kept waiting for the proposal, and was so disappointed when it didn't happen! This is my wish fulfillment. :)


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